In an ideal world, your entire family writes stories together, creating a collection of memories that becomes a priceless legacy.   Yeah, that’s nice, but we don’t live in an ideal world, do we? 

After 32 years of teaching and 19 years of parenting, I’ve learned that it’s a lot easier to inspire classroom students than my own beloved child. 

Nothing against our fabulous kids. Often, they speak truths we need to hear, and I’ve started listening more carefully.  Lately, I run writing ideas past my daughter. Often, she’ll say something like, “Mom, that’s great for the classroom, but kids aren’t doing that at home without a lot of drama and eye rolling.” 

Dang!  She’s right, but if you have the unicorn kid who wants writing ideas, email me. I have an endless supply, and I’m happy to share!  For the rest of us, I’m offering real world suggestions that:

• Don’t require writing (but help writing soar when your child puts words on a page)

• Don’t require extra time (but fit perfectly within established schedules)

• Don’t feel like homework (but create authentic bonding moments with your kids)

Basically, I’m showing you how to help your kids love writing without lifting a pencil!

Tip #1 coming up!

1. Create a habit of noticing ordinary moments. 

Even if you never write about the things you notice, the art of noticing what others miss is a huge part of the composition process.  If you cultivate a noticing habit, writing ideas appear like magic, and it’s also fun!

For example, in early February I was on daffodil watch.  Even though it was still officially winter, I knew one of those yellow delights was going to bloom any minute. It’s something that happens every year in my yard, and I can’t wait. I’ll throw up a quick Instagram post when those flowers debut and then my cousin, Ginger, who lives at the base of Oregon’s Elkhorn Mountains, will comment that her bulbs haven’t even popped out of the cold ground yet. I’ll feel a nice connection with Ginger and anticipate the day when she posts about her flowers in spring.  It’s all because we noticed something ordinary.

When my daughter was younger, we noticed a lot driving to school.  All you need to do is say what you see. No writing needed. Nothing rehearsed. “I’m only seeing parents carrying their kids’ backpacks today.” Or, “Is that a hawk on the telephone pole?” Or, “That cloud looks like a dinosaur!”  

Of course, this is above and beyond, but I used to write lists of what I noticed driving to school for my daughter’s zero period. Here are a few items from my September 2017 list:

• Elementary school parents carrying backpacks instead of kids

• Seeing the moonset and sunrise at the same time

• Lots of Teslas and Range Rovers in the drop off line

• An old man backing out of his driveway and into a bush

• Our dog eating the rest of Anna’s scrambled eggs after I dropped her off

• People blowing through stop signs 

• Driving to school in my PJ’s and slippers

Because I was in the habit of noticing, an early morning drive presented me with lots of writing ideas, teasing on Facebook because I numbered my list incorrectly, and dinnertime conversation topics.  Speaking of dinner conversations, that’s the perfect segway for the next tip. 

2. Tell and listen to stories.

What are the stories that you and your relatives tell over and over again around holiday tables? You’ve heard them a million times but listen carefully. They are a legacy that has to continue. Your noticing habit creates the opportunity for discovering new stories to add to your collection. 

In the introduction to Dave Isay’s book about NPR’s StoryCorps, Listening is an Act of Love, he says that our stories are important.  “If we take the time to listen, we’ll find wisdom, wonder, and poetry in the lives and stories of the people all around us…Listening is an act of love.”

3. Read a lot.

Enjoy reading great writing from any genre. Don’t discount the artfully crafted language in picture books or chapter books that might already be part of the nightly routine with your kids. Even if it’s not War and Peace, over time the language and structure of great writing seeps into our brains and influences the writing we put on the page.

Vicki Spandel says, “Reading has taught me more by far than most of the college courses I took on writing.”  Look at your kids’ bookcases. They are filled with teachers waiting to inspire.

4. Notice golden lines.

Golden lines are phrases or sentences that stand out when you read. They get your attention. 

When you finish a book—or in the midst of reading it—notice what you like.  Notice what you don’t like. Then, talk to each other.  Casually. Not like a teacher, but like an interested reader with opinions. These conversations are the beginnings of authentic literary analysis.  

All you need to do is ask yourself, “Why do I like this? What did the writer do to make me notice it?” You don’t need to get fancy and use English teacher terms. Just describe what you’re noticing with whatever words that come to you.

This is called reading like a writer, and Katie Wood Ray says that reading like a writer is reading “with a sense of possibility” for writing techniques you can borrow from published authors.

Do this over time and all those fancy writing moves might appear in your children’s pieces. 

5. Honor silent moments and open spaces in your day.

Ahhh. This is the best suggestion of all because it feels like rest.  Silence is a writer’s friend. It gives ideas space to grow. If silent moments don’t exist, make them part of your creative routine (and your sanity).  

In conclusion, have fun writing without writing! Pray for a few great writing teachers, and believe these sustainable strategies are enough. While it’s true that none of these tips provide direct writing instruction, what they don’t create is writing resistance. That’s huge. Nothing needs to be undone.  

Prime your kids with noticing habits. Expose them to great writing.  Tell stories. Give them space and silence to nurture ideas that grow into stories shared with listeners who love them most.  That’s how we can help our kids.  

It’s enough. More than enough.